Their Stories
by AwkwardCutness
Summary: Have you ever wondered about all the tributes from the 74th Annual Hunger Games? Even the ones without names. These are their stories, why their there, the Reaping, and their death. Goes in order, starting with District 3 Boy, ending with District 10 Girl. My first story, please don't kill me if it sucks! (School is taking over my life right now, I will update soon! Sorry guys! :P)
1. Remember

**District 3 Boy**

A/N: Everyone has a story, one that maybe wasn't shared. All the tributes in the 74th Annual Hunger Games had a story, and we only know 2. Learn a bit of their backstory, and then their deaths.

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Hunger Games. If I did, Clove and Cato would have won, not Katniss and Peeta. (Sighs happily, dreaming of Clato.)**

Tecknik. My unfortunate name was called at the Reaping. Mine. Now who would support my little sister Dayta? She was 4, and we were orphans. Being 18, I was allowed to keep us at our old house, but if I died, she would go to the community home. I had seen those kids in school; with scars, angry red marks, and bruises. I couldn't let that happen to my little sister, she was so young, innocent, and fresh, like the first flower of April. Not that we had many here, with the smoke clouds from the factories clouding the skies. We hadn't seen a blue sky in months; they were few and far between.

My dad was an alcoholic, and didn't want a daughter. A few days after Dayta was born, he killed Mom. Then he died of alcohol poisoning a couple days later. Our neighbors took us in, helped me raise Dayta. When I turned 18, we were allowed to move back into our old house. I got a job making cell phones at a factory, and made just enough to scrape by a living.

I dressed Dayta in a nice blue dress, the color of the sky. I wore a black suit, and prayed I wouldn't get picked. We lined up in the square, and I had Dayta toddle over to where our neighbors were. I waved to them, and stood in the 18-year-old section. My name was called, and in a week, I was in the arena.

My life flashed before my eyes before Cato stormed up to me, and snapped my neck. Dayta flashed through my eyes, and I hoped she wasn't watching, as his hands made contact with my neck.

I just hope she remembers me.


	2. They Lied

**District 3 Girl**

Hello, as always, I don't own the Hunger Games, and here is yet another sad untold story. Enjoy!

Batry. My name, mine, was called at the Reaping. My older sister Tells said I would be fine, I was 15, my name wouldn't get called. She promised, she promised a promise she couldn't keep. They lied, my entire family lied; saying I wouldn't get picked. Everyone lied, saying I would get home, everything would be fine. They lied.

I was the youngest of the family, the only one eligible for the Reaping. Tells was 19, and my brother Mike was 21. We were ok in terms of food and money, but none of us were very pretty. Except for Tells. She had perfect brown hair, perfect blue eyes, perfect EVERYTHING. I hated her, I hated everyone. I couldn't wait to grow up and get my own house, and get away from her.

It was always, "Look how perfect Tells is!" and "You should be more like Tells." Never, "Your perfect the way you are Batry." Or even, "I love you Batry." I was always shunned, the poor, unfortunate child, forgotten, unwanted, left alone.

And I was fine with it. People could leave me alone all they wanted. Just leave me alone with some wires and I was happy. Wires were my friends. I was also kinda friends with Rueben, Tells' boyfriend. We thought alike.

I wore my favorite light green and white dress to the Reaping, and prayed I wouldn't get picked. I was. Only Tells' boyfriend Rueben came to say goodbye. That just goes to show no one else really cared.

That day in the arena, I was there for all of five minutes before I died. I had ran into the bloodbath to grab a backpack, and before I knew it, I knife had sunk into my chest. I glanced down at it before falling into Technik's arms. Wait, I thought he never cared. I thought he didn't like me, even though he had gotten friendlier in training.

"Love you," he whispered as I closed my eyes.

"Same," I whispered, and smiled. My goal was complete.

Someone finally said they loved me, even if it was a boy I barley knew.


End file.
